


Best Medicine for the Worst Patient

by gammadolphin



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bad Puns, Bones isn't cut out for this shit, Drunken Karaoke, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, More Bad Puns, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Spock is a sneaky little shit, accidental definitely-not-a-date, his friends are less than helpful, toddler ex machina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8476048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gammadolphin/pseuds/gammadolphin
Summary: It's a special kind of hell, becoming obsessed with the laughter of a man who barely even smiles unless he’s high or dying of blood loss.Leonard doesn’t handle it particularly well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My love of Spones has always been a treasured little seed in my heart, but Beyond made it explode into something that keeps me up until 3 AM writing about this pair of beautiful idiots.
> 
> Huge thanks to [pdameron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pdameron/pseuds/pdameron), my spectacular beta/cheerleader/favorite person, and to [sleepymccoy](http://sleepymccoy.tumblr.com/), who made sure this makes sense because I've been working on it for three months now and nothing makes sense to me anymore.

It had been one of the goddamn longest nights in a life full of them, and Leonard was exhausted and worried and scared and, frankly, really quite hungry. And yet.

Leonard found himself mesmerized by the man beside him. Spock was still laughing, and Leonard knew it probably wasn't a great sign, that it most likely meant that Spock had lost far too much blood, but...goddamn. _Goddamn_.

There was just something about it, something about the way Spock’s face scrunched up and his eyes went warm and…and _sparkly_ , something about how the sound was more like a fucking _giggle_ than any grown man’s laugh had any right to be. Something about how this was _Spock_ laughing and Leonard had caused it. Just. God _damn_.

Then and there, Leonard vowed that if they both survived this shitstorm, he was going to hear Spock laugh again.

 

It was a little while before Leonard remembered his promise to himself. He was a little busy after all, what with trying to keep Spock alive and then trying to keep the crew alive and then trying to keep everyone in Yorktown alive and then trying to keep Jim alive and then trying to keep himself alive without crash-landing another spaceship.

And then, you know, the paperwork.

Dear God, the paperwork.

After all that, he’d been thinking more about the crew’s morale than his own. It was why he’d thrown himself into preparing a surprise party for his best friend rather than using his precious free time to catch up on about a month’s worth of sleep. But once he'd successfully lured Jim into the party and made sure that his intuition had been right and that Jim wasn't about to bolt for the nearest exit, Leonard found his attention drawn to another of the room’s occupants.

Spock was standing with Uhura, and she was smiling up at him. Leonard could see the smile in Spock’s eyes as he looked back at her, and he was surprised by the strength of the jealousy that stabbed at him. Sure, he'd been working to squash the increasingly noticeable twinges of... _something_ when he looked at Spock for a while now, but he hadn't really let himself think much of it. And he sure as hell hadn't let himself feel jealous of Uhura, someone he respected and considered a good friend.

It must have been that damn laugh.

Uhura probably got to hear that laugh. She probably got to hear it all the time. She probably knew just what to do to bring it out, knew its nuances and its various forms.

Spock caught him looking, and he plastered on an innocent look and hid behind his glass. But as he turned away, his brain was already wheeling into motion, planning.

 

After their ordeal, the crew of the _Enterprise_ was given several months of leave until their new ship could be constructed. Normally, that kind of free time would’ve had Leonard climbing the walls by the end of the first week. He enjoyed shore leave as much as the next person, but he thrived on his work, on being busy. But this time, he had a new mission, and it was by nature anything but boring.

Now, Leonard’s self-esteem wasn’t so low that he considered himself a dull guy, but he was also self-aware enough to know that when people said he was funny, they meant his dry sense of humor made them snort into their drinks, not break out in peals of laughter. And that just wasn’t going to cut it, not if he was going to draw a laugh out of someone who barely even smiled when he wasn’t high or delirious.

And he _was_ going to do it. He wasn’t entirely sure how it had become so important to him, but it had. So he did what any self-respecting scientist did when faced with a seemingly insurmountable challenge: he started researching.

Among its countless other assets, Yorktown boasted a truly impressive database of information of all kinds. So the afternoon after Jim’s birthday party found Leonard sitting at a data terminal in the massive library, starting an expansive search on humor.

Unsurprisingly, he found more results than he could possibly sift through. He found information on the philosophy of humor, on the evolution of humor in society, on the varying values placed on humor by different cultures. He found two dozen biographies on famous comedians, two hundred books of jokes.

He felt like he could’ve earned a philosophy degree by the end of his reading, but none of it felt particularly helpful for his situation. There wasn’t, for example, a how-to guide on getting a Vulcan to dissolve into uncontrollable laughter. Although…

Freshly inspired, Leonard entered new search parameters: Vulcan humor.

Twenty minutes later, he shut down his terminal and stared blankly into space for a moment, speechless and mildly disturbed. If that was what humor was like on Vulcan, then Leonard was amazed that Spock turned out as normal as he did.

He decided to start slow, to get a feel for his subject. He checked out one of the joke books to his padd, selecting one on science humor. He spent the evening reading through it, and although he found plenty of jokes that he fully intended to use whenever he next saw Joanna, he didn’t think any of them would be particularly successful in coaxing so much as a smile out of Spock.

But what the hell; he had to start somewhere. With a couple of jokes lined up, it just became a matter of timing.

Leonard had never been known for his sense of timing.

“The current allocations for facilities in the _Enterprise-A’s_ design grant 15.2% more space to xenobiology than astrocartography,” Spock was explaining at a meeting of what was to be the new ship’s senior staff. “Given the primarily exploratory nature of the ship’s mission, it would be prudent to reduce that disparity to-”

“Did you just mutate for a stop codon?” Leonard blurted out. “Because you’re talking nonsense!”

Spock broke off mid-word, blinking. He turned to look at Leonard, along with everyone else at the conference table. Dead, baffled silence had come crashing down around them all. Not even the humans were laughing, much less Spock.

Heat rushed to Leonard’s face, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral. Well, he was committed now.

“Guess I’d better switch to chemistry jokes, huh?” he asked. “More likely to get a reaction.”

The silence only deepened. A few mouths were hanging open in incredulous consternation. The weight of the stares on him made something in Leonard’s soul shrivel up just a little. Why the hell had he thought this was a good idea? What had made him try this in front of so many people?

Tragically, the floor didn’t open up beneath him to swallow him whole. He considered bolting for the exit as the silence continued to drag on.

“Ooookay,” Jim said after fifteen agonizing seconds. “I think maybe you’d better leave the terrible jokes to me, Bones.”

“Oh, I don’t know, sir,” Scotty said, his voice coming out a little strangled. “Sulu seems to be enjoying it.”

They all looked at the helmsman, who had spun his chair away from the table and was doubled over, practically wheezing with silent mirth. Leonard had a feeling it had to do more with the ridiculousness of the situation than the quality of the jokes, but it was something. He shot another glance at Spock. Nothing.

Leonard grimaced and cleared his throat.

“Anyway, what I was trying to say was that Spock’s wrong and I’m gonna need a minute or two to lay out all the reasons why.”

Jim looked thoroughly relieved to be back on familiar ground and the rest of the meeting continued without any further embarrassment.

 

It should have been enough to get Leonard to give up on this whole ridiculous endeavor. But he couldn’t get the memory of that laugh out of his head. Each day that passed took with it some detail, until he could no longer remember the exact way Spock’s eyes had crinkled, the dazzling flash of his smile, the imperfect melody of the laughter itself. Each loss struck him harder than the last. And if he had to sacrifice a little (read: a _lot_ ) of his dignity to get those details back, then he would.

At least for his next attempt, he waited until there wasn’t an audience.

“Hey, Spock.”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“You hear the story about the two atoms?”

“Nearly all stories involve entities composed of at least two atoms. Are you referring to any anecdote in particular?”

Leonard rolled his eyes. This was off to a good start.

“Yeah, so two atoms are walking along-”

“Atoms do not have sentience or any sort of ambulatory appendages and are therefore not capable of walking anywhere.”

Leonard glowered at Spock.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a pain in the ass?”

“You. Regularly.”

“Good. Someone has to.” Spock just raised an eyebrow. “Anyway, the two atoms are walking along, and one of them says-”

Spock opened his mouth, and Leonard held up a hand.

“I swear to God, Spock, if you tell me that atoms can’t talk either, I’m going to start hanging Christmas ornaments from your ears.” Spock shut his mouth again, although he looked more perplexed than worried. Granted, it wasn’t Leonard’s best threat. “One of the atoms says ‘oh no, I think I’ve lost an electron!’ And the other one asks ‘are you sure?’ and the first one says ‘yeah, I’m positive.’”

Spock just looked at him, head tilted slightly to the side.

“Get it?” Leonard asked, without any real hope. “The electron is negatively charged, so without it-”

“I have been perfectly well aware of the nuances of atomic structure since the age of three, Doctor. Yet I fail to see-”

“Oh, forget it.”

 

Clearly, Leonard needed a different approach. Even if stupid jokes weren’t doing the trick, there had to be something out there that would. If he’d managed to make Spock laugh while exhausted, hurt, and stranded, then surely he could do it while rested, healthy, and focused on the task.

So he went back to the library and resumed his research. He decided to try a mixed strategy. If he combined a variety of other kinds of jokes, as well as different kinds of material comedy, then he had a better chance of stumbling upon the miracle it would take to get a laugh out of Spock.

He started out with a few different tactics. He showed up to a meeting with his shirt on backwards and acted like there was nothing out of the ordinary. He stole Jim’s communicator and reprogrammed his autocorrect settings, then lurked around Spock waiting for him to get a message from their illustrious captain. The barely-suppressed bewilderment on the Vulcan’s features was almost enough to do Leonard in, but got him no closer to his goal.

He bet Scotty a bottle of his favorite liquor (not stolen from Chekov, this time) that the engineer couldn’t make it a whole day wearing rollerblades instead of regular shoes. The footage of the resulting chaos would entertain the entire crew for years to come. He even kept steadily working his way through a seemingly inexhaustible list of jokes that failed to improve in quality from his first few attempts.

He even commed Joanna and asked her what kinds of pranks her classmates were pulling on their teachers and one another. He certainly got a laugh out of her when he told her why.

“Hey, this stays between us,” he warned her. “If you tell Uncle Jim, or, God forbid, your _mother_ , I’m gonna have to change my identity and move to some backwater planet where they don’t get visitors and then I won’t get to come home and threaten your prom date.”

Joanna rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, _that_ would be a shame,” she said. “Relax, Dad. I won’t tell anyone about your adorable crush.”

“It is not a _crush_ ,” Leonard protested. “It’s me trying to prove to a coworker that he’s not above expressing some good old fashioned human emotion every once in a while.”

The look Joanna gave him reminded him why he’d always been dreading her teenage years before they arrived.

“Lying is wrong, Daddy,” she said. “You taught me that.”

“Yeah,” Leonard sighed. “What was I thinking?”

None of Joanna’s suggestions seemed particularly promising, but Leonard gave them a try anyway. And although it didn’t get a laugh out of Spock, he did personally get a kick out of watching Jim trying to figure out who the hell had planted a glitter bomb in his showerhead. He’d put up with enough of Jim’s pranks over the years to have no qualms about returning the favor.

But nothing fucking worked. And Leonard still couldn’t stop trying.

Uhura was the first to notice that something was strange about him. Sulu started to get suspiciously twitchy lips whenever Leonard was in the room shortly thereafter. Jim didn't notice anything was different until Leonard put a whoopie cushion on his seat during another senior staff meeting.

…So it wasn’t Leonard’s finest moment. Jim apparently didn’t think so either. He stopped Leonard on his way out of the room.

“Bones?” he said, voice suspiciously casual.

“What, Jim?”

“What the fuck?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Oh, so what you're trying to say is that it's perfectly normal for you to pull pedantic pranks on your senior officers at important meetings?”

“Important? Jim, I saw you doodling tribbles on your padd while Uhura was talking.”

“I think you're avoiding the question.”

“I think your face is avoiding the question.”

Jim stared at Leonard. Leonard stared at Jim.

“So there’s a chance I’m finally cracking a little.”

Jim clapped him bracingly on the shoulder. He leaned in, and Leonard waited for whatever advice his friend was about to bestow.

“It was only a matter of time.”

Leonard sighed. Well, there was no way he was going to tell Jim what the actual problem was. Whatever halfway-decent advice he might get would be far from worth it.

“Gee, thanks, Jim.”

 

Well, if Leonard couldn't be funny himself, maybe he could count on the comic skills of professionals. He returned to the library database, searching for holovids with the best reputations. He wanted something funny, but didn’t want to take the chance that Spock had seen it already, so he surfed through older records. There were so many choices that he ended up getting overwhelmed. He eventually threw in the towel and went to the information desk.

“Are you looking for any particular kind of humor?” The Andorian librarian asked him.

“I’m looking for whatever will make someone who can’t acknowledge his goddamn feelings laugh until he can’t breathe,” Leonard informed her.

He sighed, rubbing a weary hand over his eyes. Why was this so goddamn difficult? And why the hell did it matter so much to him?

“Why can’t he just _laugh_?” he asked tiredly. “I mean, is that really too much to ask? I know he can do it. Is it because he enjoys watching me make an ass out of myself? That’s it, isn’t it! He can’t win arguments properly, so he gets his revenge by withholding-”

He realized abruptly that the Andorian woman was staring at him. He shut his mouth, face heating.

“So can you help me or not?” he asked gruffly.

“Sir, I’m not sure that anyone can help you.”

That surprised a rueful snort out of him. He shook his head. Christ, what had his life become?

“Fair enough,” he said, starting to turn away.

“But I might have something.”

He paused and turned back. The Andorian was tapping something into her console, and a moment later, she handed him a small data cartridge.

“It’s a bit old, but I personally think it’s timeless.”

“What is it?”

“A guaranteed laugh.”

What she didn’t say was who would be the one laughing, which must have been herself, because it sure as hell wasn’t Spock.

“You needed something, Doctor?” the Vulcan asked as he strode into Leonard’s quarters that evening.

He paused, gaze taking in the holoprojector that was set up. He raised an eyebrow at Leonard.

“Yeah, you and I are going to do some research,” Leonard said, hoping to cover his mounting nervousness with authority.

“Of what nature?”

“Earth history. Sit.”

Spock just looked at him for a moment, eyebrow still raised, but then he sat down where Leonard had indicated. Leonard grabbed a bowl of popcorn from the replicator and dropped gracelessly onto the couch beside him. He held out the bowl, and Spock looked at him askance.

“Oh, come on,” Leonard said. “Tell me you’ve done the movie and popcorn thing at least once in your life. I don’t have time to feel all sorry for you if you haven’t.”

“Of course I have. I was raised by a human mother and was romantically involved with a human woman for several years. However, I fail to see how popcorn is warranted for a research session.”

“I said this was a lesson in Earth history,” Leonard said, ignoring the irrational stab of giddy amusement that hearing Spock say the word ‘popcorn’ sent through him. “So you’re gonna get the full experience.”

He shook the popcorn bowl under Spock’s nose. Spock glanced skyward in what looked suspiciously like an eyeroll, but took a handful. Unreasonably pleased with himself, Leonard sat back and queued up the movie.

It began with over a minute of opening credits, so Leonard had plenty of time to regret every single choice in his life that had led him to this point. He was hyperaware of Spock beside him, calm and still in a way that embodied the complete opposite of what Leonard was feeling. What had he been thinking? Why had he thought it was in any way a good idea to lure Spock into what felt _way_ too much like an accidental date?

But that laugh. If this worked, if this was what finally allowed Leonard to hear that stupid laugh again, then it would be worth it.

And then the opening credits ended, and the movie actually began. It really was old; two or three centuries at least. It started out innocently enough, with some old couple talking about how they’d met. Not exactly anything that would induce side-splitting laughter in anyone, but it was early.

And then things started to go downhill. The nostalgically in love old people really should’ve been his first clue. The closeup of some human couple locking lips in a seemingly endless kiss would have qualified as a pretty damn solid second. But a morbid conversation about meaningless lives and dying unnoticed followed by a solid minute of bickering in an old automobile lulled him into a false sense of security.

So it wasn’t until the two main characters were sitting in a diner arguing about what constituted good sex that he realized that he’d called Spock to his quarters and sat him down with no explanation and forced him to watch a _romcom_.

As some jackass named Harry went on about how no one named Sheldon could possibly be good in bed, Leonard felt himself blush to the roots of his hair. He very resolutely kept his eyes on the screen, not turning his head so much as a millimeter to look at Spock. He was going to stand outside of that Andorian’s section of the library and hand out noisemakers to every person under the age of thirteen that walked in.

Now, Leonard wasn’t a prude. He appreciated the benefits of a healthy sex life, although it had been longer than he cared to admit since he’d enjoyed them himself. And if he’d been watching this movie with Jim, they probably would’ve been adding their own colorful commentary or throwing popcorn through the projected image, aiming for the girl’s nose or the guy’s ears and cheering when they made the shots. But he was watching it with _Spock_.

 _Say something, idiot_ , his brain urged him. _Play it cool_. But it utterly failed to provide him with any kind of actual words to diffuse the silence that was suddenly screaming in his ears. Because what earthly reason could he possibly have had for subjecting them both to this deliberately?

And then it was just too damn late to do anything. All Leonard could do was sit there in silence, feeling his palms break out in sweat as the discussion just. Kept. _Going_. The relief that hit him when Harry and Sally finally parted ways was short-lived, because one sickly-sweet geriatric couple later, they were treated to yet another make-out scene. This time in an airport.

Things only went downhill when Harry showed up again. Leonard had a feeling he was really going to start hating that guy. He was going on and on about how men and women couldn’t just be friends without wanting to jump each other constantly.

“This appears to be a very heteronormative discussion of human mating rituals.”

Leonard jumped slightly. He finally looked over at Spock, to find the Vulcan studying the projected image with careful interest.

“Yeah well, it’s a product of its time, I guess,” Leonard said, relieved for the chance to diffuse the tension gripping his entire body. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that guy is trying to get into the poor girl’s pants, so it probably wouldn’t do him much good to tell her that he secretly wants to do her boyfriend too.”

“Fascinating.”

Leonard glanced over at Spock again. He actually did seem to be interested. Despite everything, Leonard couldn’t help snickering a little.

“You do know this isn’t a documentary, right?” he asked.

“You did say that it was a product of its time. It therefore provides valid insight into the culture of its creators.” Spock glanced at Leonard. “That is why we’re watching it, is it not?”

“Yep. Absolutely. That's exactly why.”

Leonard fixed his gaze on the screen again. A minute or two ticked by without incident.

“Is that Princess Leia?” Spock asked abruptly.

Leonard blinked. He squinted at the actress that had just appeared on the screen, and then looked at Spock.

“You’ve seen _Star Wars_?” he asked, incredulous.

Spock’s expression became a touch rueful.

“When one is friends with Jim Kirk, there are certain things that one must become resigned to.”

Leonard snorted.

“Sounds about right,” he said. “He got me during our third week at the Academy. He poked me in the stomach with his full-size lightsaber replica whenever he thought I was falling asleep. But come on, who the hell can stay awake through twelve movies straight?”

“I had no such difficulty,” Spock said primly, returning his focus to the holoprojector.

Leonard threw a piece of popcorn at him…and watched in stunned awe as he caught it in his mouth without even looking. He barked out a delighted laugh, and the corners of Spock’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. Leonard waited, holding his breath, but it was a false alarm. Sighing internally, he settled back to watch the movie and pray.

_“I’m saying that the right man for you might be out there right now, and if you don’t grab him someone else will, and you’ll spend the rest of your life knowing that someone else is married to your husband.”_

“Doctor?”

“Yeah, Spock?”

“You have lost all grounds for contradicting me on the lack of logic in human behavior.”

“That’s fair.” It wouldn’t stop him arguing with Spock anyway, but it was certainly fair.

And because Leonard hadn’t been punished enough, the next scene consisted of that poor sucker Harry laying out the details of a divorce that sounded suspiciously like his own.

“Well, I guess it’s comforting to know that the institution of marriage has been so predictable for so long,” he grumbled.

“Your ex-wife left you for your tax accountant and the moving company was aware of it before you were?” Spock asked.

Leonard jabbed a hand rather viciously into the popcorn bowl.

“Close enough.”

…And Harry and Sally were back to talking about sex again. Leonard wondered when the two of them would just stop talking about it and finally start actually having it. Then he remembered that he _really_ didn’t want that.

Still, it…was actually a pretty good movie. And once it became clear that Spock wasn’t going to question his reasons for putting them both through this and was actually getting invested in their “research,” it became possible for Leonard to relax a little, even to start enjoying himself.

Which, naturally, was when Sally decided it was an appropriate time to fake an orgasm. In a diner. She really went for it, too. Gasping, moaning, banging on the table, the whole nine yards. And if Leonard had thought his face was on fire before, it was nothing compared to the supernova it had become by the end of that show.

When it was finally, mercifully over, Leonard couldn’t help it; he peeked over at Spock. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to see, but the considering frown on the Vulcan’s face wasn’t it. Momentarily distracted from his abject mortification, Leonard elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

“You wondering if anyone’s ever faked it with you?” he asked, smirking.

Spock blinked and looked over at him. The frown turned into an aloof look.

“Hardly, Doctor.”

Leonard snorted.

“Yeah, everyone thinks that, but you know some of them have to be wrong.”

One dark eyebrow raised delicately.

“Intercourse with Vulcans goes far beyond the tactile,” Spock said calmly. “It is an intimacy of the mind as well as the body. It is a complete joining of two individuals, with all barriers lowered, physical and mental. The pleasure of one’s partner becomes his own. It is not possible to ‘fake it.’”

Leonard stared, doing his best to keep his mouth from dropping open as his face heated again. Never in his life had he expected to hear Spock talking about sex, and it was…something. It sent his thoughts into territory that had been firmly forbidden, thoughts of what it would feel like to have those sensitive hands on his body, to experience that kind of _intimacy_ -

He dragged his brain firmly back to safe ground before it could get him into any more trouble. He cleared his throat.

“Well, I guess Uhura’s a luckier woman than I thought,” he managed.

Spock gave him an odd look.

“Are you not aware that Nyota and I no longer engage in such activities?” he asked. “Our relationship has been platonic in nature for some weeks now.”

Leonard opened his mouth, but closed it again without a word. No, he hadn’t been aware of that. Sure, he and Spock had emoted about the breakup when they were stranded together, but he’d assumed that once Spock decided to stay in Starfleet, the relationship would pick right back up where it had left off.

“What, did she refuse to take you back?” he asked, and he’d meant for the words to be sarcastic, teasing, but they came out oddly gentle.

“I did not ask her to.” At Leonard’s startled look, Spock elaborated. “My respect and affection for Nyota remain undiminished, as do hers for me. However, we have both grown and developed as individuals in the time since our relationship began, and we are no longer compatible as romantic partners.”

“Well, that’s a very…logical take on things,” Leonard said after a moment.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Spock calmly returned his attention to the movie. After a few last moments of staring, Leonard did the same. It was considerably harder to focus this time.

“Is this still considered a valid means of communicating attractiveness to one’s peers?” Spock asked later, when Harry and his friend were discussing the attributes of their upcoming blind dates.

“What, to say someone has a good personality when you don’t think they’re physically attractive?” At Spock’s nod, Leonard shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I like to think we’ve moved beyond placing too much importance on the physical. But I guess if you want to say something nice about a person but don’t find them good-looking, you could compliment their personality, or intelligence, or what have you.”

“Fascinating. Is the reverse true as well, then? Did people insult the personalities of those they found physically attractive?”

“You know, Spock, I’m not sure. The whole thing is a little too unnecessarily complicated for my taste.”

“I see.”

They were both silent for a moment. They watched a double-date going nowhere fast.

“Doctor?”

“Hmm?”

“I find your personality extremely abrasive.”

Leonard choked on his popcorn. By the time he could breathe again, it was too late to try to figure out just what the hell Spock had meant by that.

Finally, the movie drew to a close. The ending was hardly a surprise, but it was sweet in a way that Leonard would forever deny got to him. Neither of them said anything as the end credits began to play.

Leonard watched the names scroll by, thoughts swirling through his head. This…actually hadn't been so bad. Maybe he hadn't managed to get a laugh out of Spock, but he'd actually _enjoyed_ himself, and incredibly, he was pretty sure that Spock had too. Sure, there had been some moments when he’d wanted to sink through the couch and embrace the sweet oblivion of death, but those had gotten fewer and farther between as the movie wore on. And now…now he was actually wishing that the movie had been longer. A lot longer.

Spock startled him by speaking first.

“Was there any further _research_ that you wished to conduct, Doctor?” Something about the way he said ‘research’ made Leonard suspicious. He glanced over to the side, but Spock was watching him with his usual look of serene innocence.

“I wouldn't want to keep you,” Leonard said gruffly, praying he wasn’t about to be called out.

“You did not call me away from anything of importance. And as you are so frequently reminding me, I could benefit from a more comprehensive exposure to human culture.”

Was it just Leonard’s imagination, or did he actually _want_ to stay? No - he was probably just being polite. Or hell, maybe he really was getting a kick out of this glimpse into Earth history.

Leonard decided he didn’t really care what the reason was. He wasn’t about to pass up the chance to keep Spock around a little longer.

“You ever see any of H. Gordenthal’s work?” he asked.

Spock cocked his head.

“The Terran filmmaker from the mid twenty-first century?”

“That's the one.”

“Indeed. Her adaptation of the _Silmarillion_ was another film that Jim…encouraged me to watch.”

“Yeah well, in that case he was doing you a favor. Anyway, my dad absolutely loved her movies; we’d watch them together all the time when I was growing up. I did the same with Joanna. They're old, but they're still some of my favorites.”

“I see.” Then, “do you currently have access to any of them?”

Leonard broke into a grin.

“You bet your pointy Vulcan ears I do.”

Leonard couldn’t bring himself to pick a favorite, so he just went with Joanna’s. And so it was that he and Spock ended up marathoning an entire trilogy of 200 year old movies about two lady knights who saved their realm and fell in love along the way. They were _not_ more chick flicks. They weren’t.

 

Okay. So while movie night had been… _interesting_ , to say the least, it had been ultimately unsuccessful as far as Operation Water from Stone (which Leonard had started calling it somewhere around his sixth research session) went. Which meant that Leonard’s quest was far from over. But he was running critically low on ideas.

“People find you funny, don’t they, Scotty?” he asked his friend over drinks a few nights later.

Scotty looked at him bemusedly, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not to be offended. Then he shrugged.

“Aye, I suppose,” he said. “Why?”

“I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I’m a stick in the mud,” Leonard said. It wasn’t a lie. “And much as I may claim to be a crotchety old man, I don’t actually want everyone to be miserable around me. So how do you do it?”

“Ah,” Scotty waved a dismissive hand. “You don’t have to be funny to be fun to be around.”

Well, that was all very kind, but it didn’t do Leonard much good.

“Besides,” Scotty added, elbowing Leonard with a grin. “No one who’s been out drinking with you would ever say you cannae be funny.”

Leonard froze. He stared down at his drink, and then up at Scotty.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a genius, Mr. Scott?” he asked.

“Does anyone ever tell me I’m-” Scotty scoffed. “Of course they do!” He paused, blinked. “Why am I a genius, again?”

 

It wasn’t hard to convince some of the crew to agree to another get together. They saw each other often enough, what with the continuing planning for the new _Enterprise’s_ upcoming voyage and the fact that they’d all been housed in the same general area, but it wasn’t the same as working closely together every day. Besides, Leonard turned out to have something of a natural talent for party planning. Go figure.

So three nights after those drinks with Scotty, everyone who wanted to come gathered at a local bar.

“Aren’t you just becoming a little social butterfly,” Jim teased when he arrived, slinging an arm around Leonard’s shoulders.

“You take that back,” Leonard said, but he was only half paying attention. He was scanning the small crowd for any sign of Spock.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you’ve been acting so weird lately?” Jim asked casually.

“No, probably not.”

“Fine. Just tell me; am I gonna end up covered in glitter again? I only just finished getting the last batch out of my ears.”

“You can’t prove that was me. Also, no, probably not.”

Leonard spotted Spock at a table in the corner, reading something on his padd. Rolling his eyes, he shrugged out of Jim’s grip.

“Try not to have too much fun,” he told his friend.

He missed the knowing smile that Jim sent his way as he headed for the corner table.

One quick stop at the bar later, Leonard was setting a mug down on the table in front of Spock.

“You look like a man who could use some hot chocolate.”

Spock looked down at the mug in surprise.

“I was not aware that such a desire could be read from one’s countenance,” he said.

“Trust me, I’m a doctor,” Leonard said, sliding onto the stool opposite Spock’s with his own drink.

Spock raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. He peered down at his drink for another moment, before taking a sip. The other eyebrow went up to join the first.

“Not good?” Leonard asked, dismayed. The plan wouldn’t work if Spock didn’t like his drink.

“On the contrary, Doctor.”

Spock took another sip. Leonard hid a pleased smile with his own glass. This was going to get interesting.

One cup later, Leonard decided it was time to test the waters. He wasn’t noticing any visible changes, but he’d never seen a drunk Vulcan before, so he wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for. He certainly didn’t want to overdo it. He’d had more than enough of hauling around an unsteady Spock to last a lifetime.

“You ever hear about the three logicians who walked into a bar?” he asked.

“Is this a rhetorical question?” Spock asked. “It can be challenging to tell, with you.”

“Of course it’s a rhetorical question, just shut up and listen. You’ll like this one, it’s about logic.” Leonard cleared his throat. “So the three logicians walk into a bar, and the bartender asks, ‘do you all want drinks?’ And the first one says, ‘I don’t know,’ and the second one says ‘I don’t know,’ but the third one says ‘yes.’”

“So you do understand the basic principles of logic,” Spock said solemnly. “I was under the impression that its grasp was beyond you.”

Leonard glowered at the Vulcan, who gave him a bland look.

“You should be relieved, Doctor,” he said. “It means that there is hope for you.”

Leonard rolled his eyes so hard they were in danger of popping out of his head. He stomped off to get Spock a second mug, grumbling the whole way.

 

Because Leonard had planned the gathering, he’d been in charge of the evening’s entertainment. Which meant that he had no one but himself to blame for the duet that Scotty and Chekov attempted on the karaoke machine.

“Excuse me, I need to go perform a public service,” Leonard said to Spock after two more drinks apiece.

“All right you two,” he called to his friends as he clambered up onto the small stage. “As the primary physician of everyone in this room, I'm gonna need you to cease and desist before you cause permanent damage to people's ears.”

“I'd like to see you do better,” Scotty protested, hand to his chest in false indignation. “You people have no appreciation for a proper set of lungs.”

“Yeah, Bones!” Jim shouted from the crowd of people. “Time to put your mouth where your mouth is!”

“Uhura, if you could just take Jim’s drink from him,” Leonard said into the mike he'd taken from Chekov. “I think our esteemed captain has had enough for tonight.”

Laughter rang through the room as Uhura cheerfully lifted the glass from Jim’s hand, and Leonard grinned. Maybe this would actually work.

“Thank you,” he told Uhura.

“Don’t thank me, he’s right!” she called back with a mischievous smile. “Give us a song, Len!”

Leonard grimaced and shooed Scotty and Chekov off the stage. The laughter turned into stunned looks and cheering as his audience realized that he actually was going to perform for them.

Good Lord, he was actually going to perform for them.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” he muttered.

Half a dozen hands held drinks up to the stage at once. He shook his head ruefully and grabbed a glass, knocking back what turned out to be pretty decent scotch. He turned to the karaoke machine and found the song that he’d made sure was loaded onto it.

He looked at the title, shaking his head again. Well, he’d already sacrificed much of his dignity in the pursuit of that elusive laugh. What was a little more?

So he ended up treating the entire crew to an off-key and alarmingly enthusiastic rendition of _She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy_. Most of the room was in absolute stitches, and Leonard was pretty sure those were actual tears of laughter in Jim’s eyes, but Spock. Fucking Spock. He was just sitting there, eyes shining with amusement and a small smile curving his lips, without so much as a chuckle.

Leonard had to stop himself from banging his head against the karaoke machine. Repeatedly.

 

Even with accidental romcoms and drunken karaoke, slapstick was by far the worst attempt. Leonard had never really seen the appeal himself, but his research showed that it had a fairly wide audience, and he was starting to get desperate. Okay, so he was a little past desperate, but that was entirely beside the point. Anyway, maybe Spock's disdain for humans would translate to him being entertained by watching them fall on their asses.

Spoiler alert: it didn't.

And when Leonard ended up cradled in Spock's arms, staring up into his concerned eyes while trying to blink away what might turn out to be a mild concussion, it became a lot harder to deny the fact that the little tinglings of his crush were growing into something a hell of a lot scarier.

 

Once you got past the whole snowglobe-in-space thing, Yorktown really was beautiful. Perfect weather, perfect climate, engineering that even Leonard could appreciate…it was a work of art. So he only put up a token protest when Jim insisted that they take the scenic route back from a tour of the new _Enterprise’s_ incomplete science facility, accompanied by Spock and Scotty. It was the middle of a workday, so the path through one of the starbase’s idyllic parks was mostly empty, and the air was so fresh that Leonard could almost forget that it had come out of a recycler. It left him feeling lucky.

“Hey, Spock,” he said. “You ever hear the one about-?”

Jim and Scotty groaned in unison, and Leonard broke off to glare at them. Before he could say anything though, a young voice piped up from below.

“Excuse me, Captain, but my mommy said it was okay to ask you for your autograph if I was real polite.”

Leonard looked down at the little girl who had appeared before them and was holding a padd up to Jim with a hopeful look. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, this is just what he needs,” he muttered to Scotty as Jim accepted the padd with a blinding grin. “He’s already been insufferable since they announced that they’re gonna include a section on him in that museum exhibit they’re putting together for the _Franklin_.”

Scotty just shook his head mournfully. Even Spock looked less than thrilled, although there was a tolerant fondness in his eyes as he watched Jim kneeling to talk to his tiny fan.

“There you go, Keelia,” Jim said after a moment, handing the girl her padd with a flourish.

She beamed as she took it, but the smile faded slightly as she looked down at it. She glanced up at Jim in concern.

“You spelled it wrong,” she accused.

Jim blinked.

“I did?” he asked, peering over her shoulder. “It looks fine to me.”

“No, ‘Captain’ looks okay, but I don’t think you got ‘America’ right.”

“America?” Jim repeated, nonplussed.

“Yeah!” Keelia’s face brightened again. “I almost didn’t recognize you without your uniform on - you really shouldn’t go anywhere without your shield. Bad guys attack sometimes, and you always have to be ready.”

It finally clicked, and Leonard had to put a hand over his mouth and bite the inside of his cheek. So much for Jim’s ego.

“Uh, I’m not-” Jim tried to tell her, but Scotty kicked him in the foot and gave him a meaningful look. He cleared his throat. “Right, my mistake,” Jim told the girl with a pained smile, taking back the padd. “I’ll fix it right away. Sorry about that.”

“That’s all right, Captain,” she decided, patting his leg reassuringly. “I’m not so good at spelling yet either. Mr. Darrow says that practicing will make it better. I’m sure you’ll get better too.”

“That’s- that’s good to hear,” Jim managed.

He returned the padd again, and this time it passed inspection.

“Thank you!” Keelia said brightly, armed with the unshakeable conviction of childish innocence. “My friends aren’t gonna believe I met Captain America!”

She flounced off, padd tucked to her chest. They all stared after her, several seconds of dazed silence ticking by in her wake. And then Leonard looked at Jim’s face.

He lost it. He couldn’t help it. He’d been trying so hard to be funny these last several weeks, but he’d never even managed to come close to the hilarity of his famous friend being mistaken for a fictional superhero from three hundred years ago. Jim shot him a look of wounded betrayal as he doubled over with laughter, but it only made things worse.

But even laughing so hard he could barely breathe, he didn’t miss it. Couldn’t miss it, the sound he’d been pursuing so determinedly.

Spock was laughing. _Spock was laughing_. This was not a drill.

Leonard’s own laughter trailed off as he straightened up to stare, but he soon felt an astonished, delighted smile stretch across his face. It was even better than he'd remembered. Spock's laughter went right through him, warming his chest and making his stomach swoop like he was riding a plummeting turbolift and- fuck. _Fuck_. This had been a bad idea. This had been a _terrible_ idea.

Maybe it should have occurred to Leonard that it was a blessing that Spock didn’t laugh often. Because if he did, if Leonard got to experience that more than once in a dozen blue moons…well, he might’ve been forced a long time ago to confront the fact that he’d gone and managed to fall head over heels in love like the goddamn moron he was.

Leonard wasn't the only one staring at Spock. Scotty's mouth was honest to God _hanging_ open, and Jim's eyes were wider than the time he'd dared Leonard to chug an entire bottle of Saurian brandy.

Of the three of them, Jim recovered first. Granted, he still wasn’t particularly eloquent.

“Holy shit.”

Yeah, that had pretty much been Leonard’s initial reaction too. Now, he’d moved onto the _oh_ shit stage.

“I didn't even know you _could_ laugh,” Scotty said, still slack jawed. He looked at Jim and Leonard. “Did you know he can laugh?”

“No!”

“Yeah.”

Jim and Scotty rounded on Bones.

“You've heard him laugh more than once?” Jim demanded, his previous indignation replaced by this new development.

But Leonard had more pressing matters on hand.

“Six weeks I’ve been trying to get a chuckle out of you, and _that's_ what did it?” he demanded of Spock.

“If it gives you comfort, I did quite enjoy witnessing your attempts,” Spock told him, his eyes still warm with amusement. “However, I found your honest mirth more gratifying than your forced attempts at humor.”

“You _knew_ what I was doing?”

“Of course. I would have been rather concerned about the departure from your usual - if it can ever be called that - behavior otherwise.”

“And you still let me play the fool in front of the entire crew?” Leonard could hear the pitch of his voice increasing, along with the volume, but he couldn’t seem to reign it in. “I _told_ that damn librarian you were screwing with me!”

“Wait a second,” Jim cut in, indignation coloring his voice. “I crack up at stupid shit around you all the time. How come you've never laughed with _me_?”

Lips still quirked up slightly, Spock raised an eyebrow at him. Leonard rounded on his friend.

“That’s hardly the most important-” he began, but Spock cut him off calmly.

“The joy of one's beloved inevitably becomes one's own.”

The words died in Leonard's throat with a strangled squeak. He froze, still facing Jim, whose mouth had fallen open.

“Did he just…?” Leonard asked, crooking a thumb over his shoulder.

Jim's eyes started to sparkle, the corners of his mouth turning up in an elated smile. He gave Leonard two thumbs up.

This gave Leonard the wherewithal to turn and face Spock. There was a faint tinge of green in his cheeks, but he met Leonard's gaze firmly.

“Are you kidding me?” Leonard sputtered.

Spock opened his mouth, but Leonard didn't give him the chance to answer. He grabbed Spock by the front of the shirt and yanked him close for an urgent kiss.

He didn’t have time to question whether or not he’d just fucked everything up spectacularly. Spock’s lips parted at once to meet him, arms encircling him to hold him closer. The feeling that swept through Leonard was something like the one triggered by Spock’s laughter. It was a feeling he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of.

A loud, delighted whoop split the air, and Leonard jumped violently. They all looked at Scotty, who was cackling with delight.

“That’s two dozen people who owe me!” he declared. “Half the crew thought you’d die oblivious, and the other half thought you’d jumped each other weeks ago. Uhura and Sulu were sure it was going to take another six months for you to pull your heads out of your-” he broke off and cleared his throat, cheeks pinking slightly. “Ah, for you to get together.”

“You couldn’t have stayed emotionally constipated for another week?” Jim added, shaking his head. “I was gonna buy this beautiful set of first edition _Harry Potter_ books with the winnings.”

Of course he was. Nerd.

“I’ll have a little something to say about y’all betting on my love life,” Leonard told them, but the sternness he was trying to muster up was pretty damn elusive when he still had Spock’s arms around him.

“First round’s on me, next night out?” Scotty offered.

Leonard considered it.

“Fair enough. Now, get out of here, you two.”

He waved away Jim and Scotty, and the two of them left reluctantly. As they were retreating from earshot, something occurred to Leonard.

“Wait, why _did_ it take this long?” he asked, looking back to Spock. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

“I assumed you knew. When you told me on Altamid that I did not have to say it-”

“I thought you were gonna tell me that you didn't hate my guts!” Leonard sputtered. “Not that you…” He waved a hand, nearly catching Spock in the face. “What exactly were you gonna tell me?”

Spock was unfazed by his indignation. He caught Leonard’s wayward hand in one of his own, and tucked it safely against his chest.

“That you have brought extraordinary joy to my life in the time that I have known you,” he said softly. “That you challenge me every day in ways that I can never anticipate. That you have made me more comfortable with my identity than I thought possible when I was young and lost.” Spock raised his free hand and brushed the backs of his fingers over Leonard’s cheek in an unspeakably gentle caress. “I was going to tell you that even when faced with almost certain death, I experienced no fear because you were at my side.”

Leonard stared, openmouthed. The open tenderness in Spock’s solemn eyes should have been terrifying, but it wasn’t. It felt like a precious gift.

“Spock, I…” he breathed. But what was there to say to that?

He drew Spock close again for another kiss. He longed for that intimacy Spock had mentioned during their movie night, longed to share everything that was overflowing from his heart.

He slid his hands down Spock’s sides, intending to draw him closer. But Spock jumped and wriggled away slightly, an odd sound escaping his lips as the kiss was broken. Leonard stared at him, brow wrinkling.

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

Spock’s features became way, _way_ too blank.

“Nothing,” he said.

Leonard squinted at him suspiciously.

“No…” he muttered. “No _way_.”

He darted a hand out, prodding Spock in the side. The Vulcan jerked away with an involuntary squeak. Leonard felt his eyes go wide.

“No,” he said again. “You are _not_  goddamn  _ticklish_.”

“You are correct, Leonard; I am not.”

And he claimed that Vulcans didn’t lie. Leonard was sure he’d be outraged later - because _seriously_ , this could’ve all been that easy? - but he was too busy enjoying it now.

“Horseshit,” he said, a grin taking over his face.

Traces of alarm crept into Spock’s eyes. He shifted back half a step.

“Leonard-”

But Leonard had already launched himself at him, tackling him to the ground. Those legendary hands of his were put to good use, exacting revenge for the last several weeks’ worth of shenanigans. It was true what they said about laughter being contagious.

Leonard had never in his life been so happy to catch something.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was as fun to read as it was to write. Actually, I hope it was more fun to read. Bones' slow descent into insanity mirrored my own as I tried to come up with different epic comedic failures. I couldn't resist that last scene with Jim - poor Chris Pine gets confused with Chris Evans so often, it seemed only fair to extend the suffering to Jim. And I like to think that the character of Captain America survives to the 23rd century, even if America itself doesn't.
> 
> Anyway, I would love to hear what you think!
> 
> P.S. these losers can also be found on my [tumblr](http://drmcbones.tumblr.com/).
> 
> P.P.S. the movie that Bones and Spock watch is _When Harry Met Sally_. It's a truly delightful cinematic experience, and I would recommend watching it if you haven't already seen it.
> 
> P.P.P.S. yes, _She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy_ is a real song. Do yourself a favor, and look it up.


End file.
